


Family Fluff

by Mags_Eli_Pandora



Category: Dream SMP - Fandom, Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Domestic Fluff, Family Fluff, Floris | Fundy is a child, Fluff, Sally is a shapeshifter, Wilbur Soot is Floris | Fundy's Parent, canon? we dont know her, probably everyone is ooc
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-03
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-03-16 11:27:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29824230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mags_Eli_Pandora/pseuds/Mags_Eli_Pandora
Summary: Definitely not canon compliant, but some fluff for this family.
Relationships: Floris | Fundy & Sally The Salmon, Floris | Fundy & Wilbur Soot, Wilbur Soot/Sally the Salmon
Kudos: 19





	Family Fluff

**Author's Note:**

> My friend wanted fluff for Wilbur/Sally plus child Fundy so this is my first fic for the dream smp.

For once the house is silent and calm, Wilbur and Fundy are not home but promised to be home soon, and Sally is taking advantage of the quiet time. She'd spent the morning home alone, tidying up the house and sorting through things they planned to get rid of and chests they couldn't quite remember the contents of. By now it's nearly noon and Sally is considering giving up on sorting through their piles of junk (mostly Wilbur's if she's being truthful) in favor of spending the afternoon out swimming. 

She's considering this option when the front door opens, and the first thing she wonders is how she didn't hear them approaching the house. Her husband and son, neither of whom is able to keep to a reasonable volume most days, are just as loud entering the house as they must have been when approaching it. She can hear Fundy's excited chatter and Wilbur's equally excited responses as she stands from her seat on the living room floor amidst a mess of items. She can also hear their loud footsteps. Clearly Wilbur's poor manners are the ones Fundy has adopted as they're both wearing their shoes in the house, clomping around like a pair of horses. She can't find it in herself to be all that upset, not when Fundy comes barreling towards her with a constant stream of chatter as he hugs her and recounts the events of that morning. 

"You're getting mud on my floor," Sally informs Wilbur curtly as he approaches his wife and son to plant a kiss on her cheek and ruffle Fundy's hair.

"Oh so it's your floor now, is it?" Wilbur retorts, smiling as Sally merely rolls her eyes and shoos both of them out into the entryway to take off their shoes and the light armor they'd been wearing.

"I'm learning to fight!" Fundy explains happily as Sally helps him put the armor away neatly on the armor stand.

She hums in acknowledgement and smiles as Fundy continues telling the story of his morning. She returns to the living room and puts away what she has left to sort, kissing Wilbur's cheek as she passes him on her way to the kitchen. It's lunch time after all and she suspects no one in the house has eaten lunch yet, Wilbur joins her in the kitchen once he's put away the things he came home with.

He begins making lunch and Sally gracefully hauls herself up onto the counter to sit and talk with him while he works. She wrinkles her nose as he begins making stew, and when Wilbur sees it he sticks his tongue out at her.

"If you don't like it then you can make your own damn food," Wilbur informs her as he continues making the stew.

She laughs and pulls out an apple to munch on while she waits. Eventually Fundy wanders in, drawn by the smell of food and the sound of his parents' playful arguing. He drags over a chair and climbs up onto the counter next to Sally, smiling when she hands him an apple as well. He's quiet now, worn out already from his adventures that morning.

She still remembers when he was small, that is smaller than he is now. Back when he'd be barely learning to walk and would toddle around the small house she and Wilbur built together. Fundy would follow after whoever let him, trailing behind the first person who let him latch onto them and babbling in mostly just gibberish at them. He had been slowly forming basic phrases, could enunciate some words well enough. Mostly names or animals, but also some other less appropriate words that Sally suspected Wilbur taught him purposefully. He'd always been so curious, but never enough to stray far from her or Wilbur's side. If they were walking together he'd cling to their hands and tug them along behind his unsteady steps, and if he was being held or carried he had a habit of leaning away and towards what he wanted to investigate. Now he's grown more independent, though he still hates when Wilbur and Sally have their own things to attend to and aren't at least available to pay attention him if he wants.

"I made bread and cookies too," Wilbur adds as he begins to serve the stew, "For the pickiest of wives and pickiest of women." He teases her as he bows theatrically before he hands over the food, smiling at the playful glare she gives in return.

"I'm eating the damn stew, so you can stop now," Sally informs him as she corrals her husband and son over to the kitchen table.

They settle down at the table, eating in a comfortable silence as they do most meals. For now at least the house is peacefully at rest, contentment falling upon the shoulders of its inhabitants like a weighted blanket.

"We should go swimming," Sally says suddenly, she's nearly finished her lunch as have the other two, "I was thinking about going earlier, we could make a day- er an afternoon of it!" She explains brightly as she begins collecting the dirty dishes to place in the sink.

"There's a lake a little ways away, it's got some shallow bits for Fundy to play in," She goes on with a smile, "And it's out of the way so we shouldn't be bothered much by those hooligans you call allies."

"They're nice people," Wilbur insists, frowning when Sally only gives an eye roll in return, "They are!" 

"The blond one tried to sell our son drugs," Sally deadpans as she finishes setting the dishes in the sink and begins traipsing through the house to collect the things they need for an afternoon by the lake.

Wilbur sputters out protests and finally lands on, "Tommy's just a kid! He was just joking!" Which unfortunately doesn't gain the reaction he wanted as he goes mostly ignored by Sally as she continues gathering snacks and other miscellaneous items.

"Don't get me wrong, Tommy's a nice kid and all, but he's not quite the company I'd prefer Fundy be around all the time. Brother or not." Sally adds, explaining her view of her brother-in-law with a shrug, "And besides, Fundy already has one bad influence."

Wilbur gives her a confused look and she laughs, "You, my love, are perhaps the worst role model for our son. Always tracking mud through my house, teaching him to swear. The list goes on, Wilbur." 

"Yeah but I taught him to play piano!" Wilbur tries to argue, as if the two things are even comparable.

"You taught him one scale," Sally corrects, "I taught him to read music and how to swim, so I win." She adds with a playful laugh as she strides past her husband and heads to the door.

Wilbur grabs her as she walks past, pulling her closer by her waist and quickly peppering her face with kisses. She giggles under the affectionate attention before finally giving him a peck on the lips in return and pulling away so they can get ready to head out. None of them bring armor with them as they set off, it seems silly to when they're not going anywhere overly dangerous. Sally isn't sure that the area is well lit enough, so they carry torches in case and she and Wilbur both have proper weapons in case of mobs being an issue. Wilbur has a crossbow loosely gripped in one hand, and although not a weapon, he has his guitar slung over his shoulder. The sword hanging at Sally's hip is not all that foreign of a weight, but the trident gripped tightly in her palm as they walk through a shadowy section of forest is much more familiar. She doesn't think she'll need either, but since they had forgone armor she felt safer with both in reach.

They pass through a dense forest of oak and birch, the entire walk (even when they stroll through dangerous looking places) is peaceful and full of laughter as Sally leads the way to the lake. A few times they have to take detours. Once when Fundy suddenly leaves Sally's side in a full on sprint after a chicken he'd spotted, and again when Wilbur gets distracted by a sheep that crosses paths with them. Both times Sally simply laughs and shakes her head as she follows whoever's left the group. Both instances end with her holding someone's hand and dragging them back onto the path with a small laugh. In the end she just slings her trident over her shoulder similarly to how Wilbur has carried his guitar, and with both hands now free she takes them each by hand.

"You're where he gets it from," Sally teases Wilbur quietly, "He's going to be just like you I swear."

"He's a fox," Wilbur counters back in a dramatic whisper shout, "It was a chicken, that's some good fucking instincts is what it is!" This argument is very similar to what Wilbur had said when Fundy went through a phase of screaming anytime an unfamiliar person got too close to their house. According to Wilbur it was a fox thing where they'd scream to scare unfamiliar foxes away from their den. According to Sally it was a good thing they had no neighbors.

Sally rolls her eyes, but there's a fond smile on her lips as she does so. When it comes to these two there's almost always a fond smile on her face. Even when Wilbur taught Fundy to swear and she'd discovered this when he asked for a "fucking cookie" in the middle of dinner, she had barely contained the fond smile as she reprimanded her son and husband. Fundy for saying the word and Wilbur for teaching it to him. Even when Fundy was still an infant and she had been up for nights on end soothing him back to sleep, there was a fond smile for both her infant son and especially for Wilbur who so graciously quieted his voice or else took Fundy elsewhere so that she might gain back even a half hour of rest. Even when Wilbur came home battered and bruised from some idiotic argument that launched into a full-scale fight, Sally had a fond smile as she helped him heal up. 

Even on days where Wilbur drove her up a wall for any myriad of reasons, even when he made her temper flare more fiery than the Nether (Those were the times people asked if she wasn't part blaze perhaps, if she was certain her temper wasn't caused by some genetic predisposition. Those people were wrong, of course, Sally was a shapeshifter certainly, but she was a salmon at the end of things. Nothing from Nether to be had in her lineage), at the end of it all, once she had calmed down and settled her nerves, there was that fond smile on her face as she spoke to him.

It's the same smile she bears now as they approach the lake together. A smile that subtly lights up her face and causes her face to be full of so much adoration and genuine care that it's clear to anyone how much she loves her family.

"Are you going to swim?" Sally asks Wilbur as she dumps her things on the shore.

He shakes his head with a small smile, "Not today I'm afraid. You two have fun though." He says, nodding towards the water as he settles on the shore and pulls his guitar into his lap.

Sally nods before turning to Fundy with a grin, "Race you?" She asks, laughing as Fundy takes off past her.

In the end she lets Fundy beat her to the water, but jumps in after him. She sends a wave of water crashing over him before changing into her fully salmon form to swim towards him. Fundy giggles as she swims closer, he's always found her shapeshifting to be cool and had previously asked if he would become a fish like her. Sally had chuckled softly and shaken her head, but told him he wasn't missing out on much with his fox features instead. He'd been satisfied with that answer, toddling off to bother his father instead.

Wilbur strums on his guitar, humming softly as he works through a song he's been writing. He adds notes to the sheet music in front of him, leaning over to scribble out changes and adjustments to the notes and rhythm. He sings for a few moments, most of the lyrics haven't been written out but he sings along where he can.

"I love when you sing, you have such a good voice," Sally says, back in a more human form as she swims up to the shore to check on him, "What's that you're working on? I haven't heard it before." She's sitting cross legged in the shallow water, Fundy sprawled out in the shallows next to her. He's laying so that his face peeks out of the water just barely.

"Ah," Wilbur ducks his head, a slight blush dusting his cheeks, "Yeah, it's a new one I'm working on. Just playing around with it for now, but... It's getting there."

"Well it sounds beautiful," Sally informs him with a smile, she rests her elbows on her legs and props her chin on her fists.

Wilbur stares at her blankly, enraptured by how she's practically glowing in the golden sunlight from the setting sun that streaks through the trees to set the lake on fire. Her red hair is spotted with flashes of gold from the dappled sunlight and her eyes glow with the bright light and a bright affection.

"Hello? Earth to Wilbur!" Sally calls out teasingly, waving a hand around to shake him from his stupor, "Are you going to play for us?" She asks, nodding encouragingly to the guitar in his lap.

Wilbur startles from his daze and refocuses with a sheepish smile, he nods and begins playing what he has of the song so far. He sings softly, but in the peaceful silence around the lake his voice floats over them all and carries across the lake in a flow of melodic sound.

Fundy silently climbs out of the water and drops onto the ground by Wilbur. He's exhausted from their morning adventuring and their afternoon at the lake, and he's practically asleep already as he curls up by his father.

Sally chuckles and begrudgingly returns to the land, gathering up their scattered items while Wilbur finishes playing his song. Once the song's come to an end Wilbur helps her finish packing up and takes her trident from her. Sally smiles in thanks as she scoops up Fundy to carry him home. He's not quite as small or as light as he used to be, and he's certainly too big to balance on her hip like she used to, but he's not so big that she can't carry him home. 

Wilbur keeps his crossbow in his hand, wary of the darkness of night creeping in and conscious of Sally's worry about mobs.

They somehow make it home without issue, and Wilbur swings open the front door with a sigh of relief. They've made it. He takes what items Sally is holding and puts them away so she can put Fundy in bed. He finishes storing all their things and approaches Fundy's bedroom, he leans in the doorway and smiles as he watches Sally tuck him in for the night, humming softly and pressing a kiss to the top of his head.

She looks up to see Wilbur leaning in the doorway and chuckles, she walks past him, tugging him along behind her, "I'm hungry after all that swimming, and you're making me some chicken and a cake." She informs him as she leads him to the kitchen.

He doesn't argue with her, he just smiles and nods as he begins the process of cooking the chicken and making the cake. She leans into his side sleepily as he cooks, humming contently when he wraps an arm around her and holds her closer to his side. She mumbles something sleepily which he doesn't quite catch, so he just presses a kiss to the top of her head and mumbles out an I love you. She seems content with this response and presses closer to him.

"Falling asleep on me?" He teases as he nudges her gently so she'll move into the living room to eat.

She grumbles at him but allows Wilbur to guide her over to the couch. The moment they're both seated Sally's curled up against his side while she slowly begins to eat.

"We should get chickens," Sally says with a groggy sluggishness slurring her words together, "Then we could have fresh eggs."

"Veto," Wilbur responds immediately, earning a sleepy look of confusion from Sally, "Fundy'd kill them." Sally gasps softly and shakes her head, "No. I'm serious. You saw him on the way to the lake. No chickens for us until he outgrows this phase like he did with the whole yelling at 'intruders' mess."

Sally frowns but nods, "Suppose you're right," her quiet agreement sounds almost loud in the soft silence of their home, "Still... I want fresh eggs." She pouts.

"You're a fish, how are you so goddamn picky?" Wilbur teases, chuckling when she lightly bats at his arm for the fish comment. 

Sally glares at him, but it loses its affect when paired with her sleepy features and fond smile, "You're meant to be a leader, how are you so goddamn stupid?" She counters in a sleepy slurring of syllables.

Wilbur just rolls his eyes and sets her plate on the coffee table in front of them. He grabs a stray blanket from the arm of the couch and drapes it over her. She sighs happily and relishes the warmth the blanket offers. It's not even cold, but Sally doesn't mind the added warmth. She rarely does. As much as she complained about the heat of Summer and spent most of the long hot days hiding in the most convenient body of water she preferred the heat over the cold.

"We'll talk about these two awful flaws in the morning," Wilbur decides, already having decided there's no way either of them has the energy to get up and go back upstairs to their room to sleep.

The couch works just fine, Sally curled up against his side with her head of still damp hair tucked under his chin. His arm is wrapped around her waist and her arms are both twined around his torso with her face buried in his chest.

"I'm going to win that argument," Sally mumbles as she begins to properly drift to sleep, "I'll be out tomorrow. Keep an eye on Fundy, mkay?" 

Wilbur nods, shushing her softly, "Enough talking. Go to sleep, we'll figure it out in the morning." He runs his hand up and down her arm soothingly and she relaxes further against him until sleep fully claims her.

Eventually Wilbur falls asleep as well, warm and content in the arms of his wife as they drift to sleep on a couch that has no business being as comfortable as it is.


End file.
